Tuesday, October 22, 2019

Review: "The Laundromat" is an Entertaining Mishmash of Ideas

Scene from The Laundromat (2019)
When Adam McKay released The Big Short four years ago, it was considered one of the most groundbreaking films of the year. How was it that the man behind such broad comedies as Step Brothers could produce a film this dense (let alone entertaining) about such a complicated story? It's a technique that has to lead him to explore other areas of economics and politics with the Dick Cheney film Vice, but most of all it felt like a taunt to other ambitious filmmakers to try and take on the headiest of subjects and make a film that not only informs but entertains. Considering that he went on to win an Oscar off of The Big Short, it was a proposition that was hard to deny and makes sense why Netflix decided to accept the latest project from Steven Soderbergh.

It would be an understatement to call Soderbergh an ambitious filmmaker. For 30 years now, he has tested his own capabilities in bringing a narrative to life. Why this is his second film with Netflix for 2019 following High Flying Bird: a feature-length film shot entirely on an iPhone. The Laundromat sets out to explore the Panama Papers and offshore banking scandals that are just as exciting as anything in The Big Short. While it's true that both of these are different films with different culprits, it feels more than usual like Soderbergh isn't blazing his own trail, but instead following a trend and not doing a great job of keeping up. Is the film entertaining? Sure. Will you learn something? Most likely. However, it's a bit of a pill at times and gets too lost in its own style.


To Soderbergh's credit, he never fails to dazzle as a director. The opening scene is an electrifying journey, done in one impressive long take, as narrators/antagonists Jurgen Mossack (Gary Oldman) and Ramon Fonseca (Antonio Banderas) travel from a barren wasteland symbolizing caveman times to a crowded club setting where they get drinks and fall into a lavish crowd. Over the course of the film, Jurgen and Ramon will explain all of the complicated jargon to the audience, casually laughing at how ridiculous the tax laws end up being (they even take a fourth-wall-breaking pot shot at Soderbergh at one point). Still, for that opening scene where they explain why humans evolved from the bartering system to a more universal form of money, it feels like Soderbergh has outdone McKay. He has found a way to effectively use heightened style within his naturalism to convey something that he clearly has passion in. There's no denying that it shows in how meticulous every last passage here is worded. 

He even has a fascinating counterattack in do-gooder Ellen Martin (Meryl Streep), whose trip to France ends with a horrific boat accident. When she can't use the settlement money to rent a high-rise apartment overlooking the lake where her husband died, she becomes passionate about taking down those who wish to take it away from her. From there, the journey of Ellen constantly overlaps with Jurgen and Ramon's, though the three never meet. Ellen is stuck dealing with the associates who have been built into the scheme in one way or the other. It's all detail that's supposed to reveal something more about how impenetrable the New Century Enterprise shell is supposed to be. From there, Jurgen and Ramon's lectures on economics become more apparent, serving as just enough breadcrumbs as new wrinkles are added to the mix.

On one hand, the information is enough to make for appalling revelation after appalling revelation. Jurgen and Ramon may be the heads of offshore banking, but they claim to not know what most of their clients are doing with their money. It shows as many more supporting characters are introduced into the text. Everything is just another hurdle blocking them from sheer doom. All the while they're laughing from behind their wall, walking around their fantasized locations and sharing more details not only of how their scheme works, but why anyone would want to do it in the first place. It's a story about human greed, and what draws certain types to pursue wealth. For Ramon, a former priest-in-training, he began to doubt that the meek would inherit the Earth. He needed to become a lawyer so that he could help the meek before realizing that they didn't pay enough.

It's a fight between the common man and the rich who seem like an unstoppable force. The road to concluding the Panama Papers is one full of shocking twists. Luckily Soderbergh is an expert filmmaker who knows how to add a little style to make it go down easier. It's in his use of narration, shifting from perspectives, and just trying to make the scandal feel more important. Even when the characters criticize Soderbergh for convoluted tax write-offs, it's done to show how the laws have been rewritten to service money. After all, The Laundromat posits that America is a country that redefined what greed is, and does so in a way that is meant to be critical. The ending is especially biting if controversial as the idea of deconstructing this piece of history becomes literal. It's a bit of a gimmick, sure, but it works at showing how everything was pulled back, meant to incite interest in the cause. Streep looks to the camera and asks the audience to care, to do something besides think of greed.

The film is one that wants to feel urgent. It makes sense why Netflix kicked off its lofty theatrical Oscar campaigns with this film. Soderbergh is a trusted filmmaker who already made one of the year's most exciting films for them. However, it's surprisingly one of his least successful films since returning in 2017. While it has plenty of personality and enough moments to pop off the screen, it does little in creating a cohesive picture that works from beginning to end. There are moments spread out that are exciting, managing to show what drew him to this story, to begin with. However, the mix of stylized lectures and human drama doesn't work in close proximity, and the further the net for supporting characters gets, the harder it is to feel like the story is grounded. It wants to be so much that the best it ends up being is fine. The Laundromat is likely to entertain and even inform, but it's more thanks to Soderbergh's craft and ability to take such wild, interesting swings than what's on the screen.

Is The Laundromat good? Yes. It definitely will give the audience a deeper appreciation for how cinema challenges itself to explore heady subjects. However, this is a time when Netflix feels like it's following a trend instead of setting it. The Big Short predominantly has done it better, or more noticeably, and it becomes a bit of a distraction. While it's fun to watch Banderas and Oldman play such eccentric roles, it only holds so much excitement for so long. There is a need to expand and do something more centralized. Every time it feels like things will get there, the film adds another wrinkle that may work but doesn't gel. This is a fascinating case study in experimentation, showing that there's still room to grow. Maybe next time Soderbergh's style will work, who knows. For now, it's the one detriment to an otherwise entertaining mishmash. 

No comments:

Post a Comment